Carefully Crafted World
by Greenstuff
Summary: WIP Hermione’s world is steadily crashing down around her ears. Harry is dead, Ron is withdrawn, Ginny is depressed… who will she turn to for help? Rating may change. Eventual SSHG. now through Chapter 2
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a sort of companion fic to Emerald actually it is a parallel. The basic elements of the plot of one will give away the basic plot of the other, so it's your choice whether you want to read the plot twists with the D/G pairing or the eventual Hr/SS.  
  
Chapter summary: Hermione Hiccups, Severus Snarls, Albus Angers, Blaise Bleeds  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot... and I probably don't even own that.  
  
Carefully Crafted World  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Bell scores, another ten points for Gryffindor! They lead Slytherin ninety to seventy." Dean's voice was almost lost in the roaring of the crowd. The first game of the Quidditch season was well under way, with sixth year Gryffindor Dean Thomas replacing Lee Jordan as announcer.  
  
On the pitch the Seekers hovered high above the rest of the game, staying well away from the bludgers that were all too often shot in their direction. From her place in the Gryffindor stands Hermione could just make them out. She had never enjoyed Quidditch much and she turned her head back to the book she had brought with her. It would have to be enough for her friends to have her listen to the commentary. Quidditch just simply bored her. It was always the same, every game, with Dean as the announcer and Harry winning every game he played. What was the point? She had often pondered the question, but knew better than to ask Harry or Ron, they would be offended that she thought their pastime was frivolous.  
  
"The seekers have spotted the Snitch..." Dean's commentary brought Hermione head up from her book momentarily. She saw the boys dive, neck in neck and saw the snitch sweeping along well in front of them, disinterested she returned her eyes to her book.  
  
On the other side of the Pitch Severus Snape watched the Seekers chase the Snitch with a critical eye. His Slytherins had been unable to best the Gryffindors since Harry had joined their ranks and he was determined to know just why. If it was the Potter luck, then he would just have to wait out Potters term on the team, only two more seasons were left in it and Severus was a patient man when he had to be, but if it was skill then he would be able to hammer some of that into Malfoy and the rest of the team. As far as the rest of the Gryffindor team went, they were obviously both more talented and more dedicated than the Slytherins, this he knew he could improve, and he scolded himself for not doing something about it before this match. Minerva never let him live down the humiliation of being resoundingly trounced on by her team.  
  
Lost in his musings Severus noticed the bludger flying towards the side of Harry's head a moment too late. Cursing he whipped out his wand and attempted to stop or even slow the boy's plummet, but the restless crown in front of him would not allow him a clear path through which to cast the spell. Helpless to stop Harry's plummet to the earth Severus watched with a sick pit in his stomach at the boy hit the ground and lay still.  
  
"A bludger hit Potter off his broom..." Hermione, who had looked up from her book upon hearing Dean's comment let out a cry. Tossing the book aside she ran from the stands to the pitch, she was to shaken to help him, tears of panic streamed hotly down her cheeks. The other students wisely let her push her way through them onto the pitch. She sprinted to where Harry had landed.  
  
Ron saw her and grabbed her, forcing her into his embrace. "You don't want to see Hermione. I'm so sorry."  
  
Knife-sharp agony ripped through her heart. "No!" she cried, pushing away from him and through the thin line of people cutting her off from where Harry lay.  
  
Ron followed close behind her, shoving aside the others.  
  
Harry's body lay in a pool of bloody grass, his skin was white and his lips had taken on a bluish tinge. There was an open wound at the side of his head that suggest her had been dead long before he hit the grass. Hermione gagged. His eyes, once so full of spirit and mischief, stared unseeingly up at her. She couldn't take it anymore. Turning she buried her face in Ron's broad chest and cried with loud hiccoughing sobs that threatened to choke her.  
  
Severus pushed his way into the crowd, ordering students who had yet to see Harry's prone form to return to their house common rooms. Slowly the mob of students was reduced to a manageable crowd. He saw most of his Slytherin Quidditch team in a silver and green huddle off to one side, talking softly amongst themselves, Madeline Flint was crying on her brother's shoulder. Draco was suspiciously absent from the huddle, but a quick glance around the field revealed the blond, his arms wrapped protectively around Ginny Weasley's shaking form. Severus felt a rush of pride for the boy. There was no love between the Weasley's and the Malfoy's but Draco had worked past that to comfort a girl in need.  
  
The Gryffindor Quidditch team had formed a semi circle around the body, most of them paired off, wrapped in another's arms, seeking any comfort they could get. He caught sight of Minerva, her expression desolate. He moved to her side and gave her a brief embrace, it wasn't his preference, but there was no one else there to offer her comfort. Dumbledore was taking care of her Gryffindors, as Sinistra was with his Slytherins, so that left only them, Madame Pomfery and Madame Hooch on the field. Poppy conjured a stretcher and magicked the body onto it and, with Rolanda following closely, transported Harry off the field.  
  
Minerva watched them disappear into the castle before turning to Severus with tears in her eyes. "Oh lord Severus." She whispered, her voice breaking on the last syllable, she burst into tears.  
  
With no other option, Severus wrapped his arms gently around the woman offering no other comfort than the uncharacteristic willingness to be clung to. He had no tears to cry, but his heart was heavy as he waited for Minerva to regain some control. His Slytherins needed him, but at that moment Minerva needed him more and he would have to wait out her tears.  
  
Finally, after several minutes of tears Minerva pulled back and gave him a watery smile. "I'll be alright," she said more to convince herself than him, "go see to your students."  
  
He went gladly. His students looked shell-shocked as he shepherded them into the building and to the dungeons.  
  
Minerva pulled herself together, assuming the most sympathetic face she could without breaking into tears again she went to gather her own children. The sun was setting and shadows lengthened, washing the pitch in darkness.  
  
3 weeks later...  
  
"... Since Potter's not here anymore..."  
  
"...Such a relief...."  
  
"...Doesn't really matter d..."  
  
The whispers of her Slytherin classmates were enough to shatter the calm that had surrounded Hermione since Harry's death. She could feel the tears welling at the back of her eyes and blinked rapidly to keep them from making an appearance. She would cry later, late at night when no one was around.  
  
Dumbledore had, on her request, give the Head Girl title to a deserving Ravenclaw a few weeks back, but he had insisted she continue to use her Head girl privileges. One of these was her room; large, spacious and hers alone. There were comfy armchairs and a couch near the fire and then behind a door was her sanctuary, also known as her bedroom. The canopy bed was huge and soft covered with green satin. (It had been red originally but she had felt free to alter the color to something she liked, since the suite was hers alone.  
  
She could still hear the murmurings from Slytherin.  
  
"...Quidditch..."  
  
"...Ours this year without Harry's they're nothing!"  
  
"...What they deserve."  
  
For a moment she thought they might have moved on to a new topic, but she was sadly mistaken. Of course Malfoy and his cronies would exploit this opportunity to taunt her being she was the only Gryffindor in the class – Ron had dropped his Auror ambitions after Harry's senseless death. She clenched her hands into fists, making sure to dig her nails in until she bled. The warm blood trickled down her palm from scratches that burned. A small satisfied smile crossed Hermione's face, it felt good to know that despite the pain in her heart, it was apparently still functioning. The potion she was supposed to be brewing sat ignored and untouched on the desk in front of her.  
  
"... The house cup will be ours too, what with no Potter for Dumbledore to give the cup to. It's about time."  
  
The last comment snapped every thread of self control Hermione possessed. Unaware that she was doing it, Hermione stood advanced on the Slytherin cluster. Her eyes were narrowed into slits and her bleeding hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. "How DARE YOU!!!" she screamed, launching herself at Zabini.  
  
There was a satisfying crunch of bone meeting bone as Hermione's fist made contact with Blaise's nose. Blood began to seep rapidly from both nostrils as he lay on the ground. His body was pinned beneath hers and his attempts to ward off her attack were completely ineffective.  
  
"MISS GRANGER!!!" Professor Snape had been in the storeroom gathering a set of ingredients that the student cupboard had been strangely empty of but the sound of the brawl had brought him running. He had chosen - probably unwisely he later thought- to ignore the whispering coming from the Slytherin side of the dungeons, he had assumed they were talking about Potter, everyone was these days, but he hadn't thought Miss Granger would be so quick to react to their baiting. He reached out with both hands and grasped Hermione by the shoulders, pulling her away from the Slytherin with no small effort. "FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" he bellowed gleefully, "And I'll add 100 to that if you give me any reason."  
  
Hermione wasn't called the smartest witch in her year for nothing. Mumbling an apology she slunk back to her desk.  
  
"Everyone out," Severus growled menacingly, "class is over for today. And I' sure you'll be glad to know you will all be receiving failing grades." He smirked evilly at them as one by one his students filed out of the room, most with heads hung, the brave among them openly glaring. "Not you Miss Granger," he said, placing a restraining hand on her arm. "You are coming with me. I'm certain the Headmaster will have something to say about this."  
  
Hermione allowed herself to be dragged to the headmaster's office. She barely listened as Snape shouted the password (Sherbet-lemon). The guarding gargoyle sprang into action and a stair case unwound before her eyes. Snape still holding onto her arm with an iron grip the two ascended the stairs. He pushed her more roughly than necessary in the direction of a chair and finally released his grip to go sit in his won chair - which was much closer to the door.  
  
"Good morning." Dumbledore greeted them with a smile that was, in both Severus' and Hermione's opinions, far too cheery for the situation. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Miss Granger attacked Mister Zabini in my class this morning." Severus said coldly, narrowing his eyes dangerously and aiming this glare at Hermione.  
  
Dumbledore wisely, a noticeable twinkle in his clear blue eyes, "I assumed it was something of that nature, but then your Slytherins have not been acting very sensitively of late." Severus opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off with a wave of the Headmaster's hand. "I'm not finished yet professor." Dumbledore turned his gaze on Hermione, his expression reassuring. "Mister Zabini's behavior was still no excuse for you to lose your control Miss Granger, I expected more from you."  
  
Hermione grit her teeth and tried her best to look contrite. It was infuriating how Slytherins seemed to get away with everything they did. She could remember countless instances in the past years where prefects and professors alike had turned a blind eye in their direction.  
  
"You will serve detention with Professor Snape every night for a month," Dumbledore continued.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to protest the harshness of the punishment but shut it again settling with glaring hostilely at the Headmaster. She had figured that he would be lenient because of the stress she was under, but she had obviously been wrong.  
  
"You may return to your dormitory now." He said, dismissing her with a single glance. "Severus if you would be so kind..."  
  
Hermione didn't wait to hear the rest of his request, rising quickly she ran from the room, tears already staining her cheeks.  
  
"A month Headmaster?" Severus asked, his voice puzzled, "Isn't that a little much?"  
  
"Why Severus, I thought you enjoyed having a competent student in detention to complete your mundane chores for you." Albus replied, an undertone of steel in his voice brooking no disagreement.  
  
Severus rolled his eyes, "You know she had reason for the attack. And on top of that, it's hardly fair to stick me with a distraught teenager with a volatile temper for an entire month. Even the Dark Lord wouldn't have been suspicious if I had let her off with just one detention." He turned towards the window, his face suddenly dour, it had been several hours since he had thought about Voldemort, and the reminder brought with it a bitter resentment so strong he could taste it. Resentment was a taste that he was all too familiar with, souring his mouth whenever he made the mistake of looking too closely at his life.  
  
"It's not the Dark Lord I'm worried about," Albus said softly, "I am worried for Hermione and I am worried for you." He sighed, "I'm afraid I've given you a heavy burden to carry and no one willing to help shoulder the weight. Miss Granger is more than competent in Potions. She should be able to brew all the potions required for the infirmary, allowing you to have time for yourself."  
  
"I'm not suffering from a lack of help." Severus said gruffly, "And I certainly don't want that of an over-emotional Gryffindor."  
  
"Ah," Albus picked up a fizzing wizzbee from its dish on his desk, "Fortunately the decision is not up to you. You will allow Miss Granger to help you this month, and I will turn a blind eye to the late night library sessions you think no one knows about. If you refuse my offer I will be forced to give your head of house duties to Professor Sinistra and give you a curfew and possibly a bed-time. You'll be of no use to us if I let you die of exhaustion." Albus had never had much success in getting Severus to consider his own welfare, but he felt that the bargain he had just offered would suffice to make the man slow down, even if it was only for a month.  
  
"And what of when I'm summoned?" The brooding man snapped irritably. "It's bad enough that there are students that know of my role without having one of them witness its affect."  
  
Albus smiled, "Miss Granger is the sole of discretion, as am I. If you are summoned either I or Madame Pomfrey will oversee her work. You needn't worry about that."  
  
"I see you have left me with no options." Severus moved to lean against the wall opposite Albus' desk, "Alright, I will allow Miss Granger to take some of my workload, and I will dispense with my late nights as often as I am able. You have completely disrupted my routine, are you satisfied?"  
  
"Not entirely."  
  
"What now?" Severus asked, exasperated.  
  
"Take care of the girl will you? She's had a rough year so far."  
  
Severus nodded his acquiescence. Miss Granger had indeed suffered a difficult year. Her parents' house had been attacked over the summer holiday, fortunately the family had been out when the attack occurred, but it had left all three very deeply shaken. After the incident the Grangers had attempted to pull Hermione out of Hogwarts. Hermione had won the battle, but at a cost, her parents had, understandably, been hurt and angry that their daughter would abandon them in such a way. They had refused to allow Dumbledore to put wards up at their home, and there was a constant fear that another attack would occur at the Granger residence, only this time it might be successful. Then with Harry's death less than a month into the year, it was a wonder the girl hadn't broken completely.  
  
"Thank you." Dumbledore said simply.  
  
Severus nodded again and left the room.  
  
_ _ _ A/N: I don't know if it's strange or not to write two parallel stories like this, I know I haven't ever read parallel fics, but I didn't want to combine these two stories because each has a unique tone despite sharing some plot pieces. For those of you who have read Emerald you might notice that the first paragraph and a bit are the same between the two stories, I though I needed to include the Quidditch game into this story to make it capable of standing alone and I got lazy when it came to starting the chapter. :P Anyways... I hope you enjoyed this chapter! PLEASE REVIEW! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: YAY! If you're reading this that means the idea of a parallel story doesn't completely freak you out... Or make you think I'm the laziest author in Fanon... Which I very well might be *grins* BTW, as I forgot to mention last chapter, this story was conceived pre- OOTP, so the prophesy does not exist as far at this story is concerned. I will be using some stuff that happened in OOTP, just not that because it ruins my integral storyline.  
  
summary:  
  
Harry's dead, blood is shed,  
  
Zabini skulks, Ginny sulks,  
  
Ron throws a fit and, for once, gets away with it.  
  
Hermione, to a tolerable degree,  
  
helps out Severus, who's not as impervious  
  
As she once thought, Dumbledore's still an old crack-pot  
  
The chapter's long, there's not one song,  
  
except for this one, which I am now done.  
  
Disclaimer: I still own nothing. If I did own anything, they wouldn't be the Harry Potter books, they'd be the Hermione Granger books, and no one would have bought them, ever. Sooo... be glad I'm not JKR. If you want to sue me... Go for it. I have no money; you'll be wasting your time.  
  
Carefully Crafted World  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Sobs shook Hermione's body, despite her valiant efforts to suppress them. She bowed her head further, hiding her tears behind the veil of her hair. She would not let him see how much she hurt. It wasn't like he would even care, slimy bastard. She was standing rigidly in the corner of the potions classroom; a freely bleeding cut on her palm held protectively to her chest was rapidly staining her uniform darker. This was her first detention of twenty and she didn't want his pity, if pity was even something he was capable of feeling. The bitter thoughts did nothing to improve Hermione's mood, although the accompanying anger had slowed the rapidly seeping tears.  
  
Glancing up from his desk Severus noticed Hermione's shaking form and a wave of pity washed over him. She had been through a lot, but his position as a spy, and in fact his very life was dependant on his continued hostility to Harry and his friends and the blatant favoritism of his own house. If he were to ease up on her punishment, or even show an ounce of humanity to her, it could compromise everything, and at this point in the battle, with Harry dead, they couldn't afford a single mishap. He rose slowly, schooling his features to a carefully bored expression, and walked to where Hermione stood.  
  
Her body was trembling all over with silent sobs and there was a faint smell of blood. "Let me see," he commanded. She held out her hand for his inspection, keeping her tearstained face averted and hidden behind a wall of hair.  
  
Blood cascaded from a deep cut in the center of her palm. "Why did you not tell me you had injured yourself?" he asked gruffly, annoyed that she had been so afraid of him that she had stood here bleeding. It shouldn't have surprised him he'd had the last fifteen years to perfect his act as Snape-the-Evil-Bat and the act was a good one. Not that his true self was much better, he thought ruefully, possibly more fair but no less caustic. No one would ever accuse Severus Snape of being nice and he wouldn't want them to, but he was – despite rumors to the contrary – capable of human feelings.  
  
Taking Hermione's hand softly in his own he led her to a chair, "Sit." he ordered leaving her while he gathered the potions necessary to deal with her injury. "This will sting," he informed her, his voice emotionless, as he poured a cleansing solution over the gash. The potion bubbled pink and let off an orange mist, letting Severus know that she had at least retained sense enough to stop work on the potion immediately after the injury. He poured the healing solution over it next and, with a soft hiss, the wound closed leaving a thin silver line that bisected her hand.  
  
Handing her a third potion he said, "This will heal the scar." She took it with a watery smile. "You may go." He said, turning his head to the door. She left without comment.  
  
When she had gone Severus cast a locking charm on the door and went to see if he could salvage the pepper up potion she had been making. The liquid that was supposed to be transparent was a putrid yellow and bubbling towards the edge of the cauldron. With a quickly muttered charm Severus cooled and disposed of the substance and started the potion afresh, so much for his promise to Albus about letting Hermione handle the medi-potions and getting more rest.  
  
Out in the corridor Hermione slumped against the wall, tears once again staining her cheeks. She was furious with herself for losing control like that. A first year could have done a better job than she did, hell, Neville Longbottom had done better than that in first year potions and he was atrocious at the subject.  
  
"Well, well, what have we here?" a silky voice spoke from the shadows, snapping Hermione to attention.  
  
She recognized the voice almost immediately. "Fuck off Zabini." She snarled her distress was obvious in the simple fact that she could think of nothing to say other than the vulgar curses that she loathed using.  
  
Blaise smiled mirthlessly at her. "The cat has claws." He moved stealthily towards her, his movements reminding her of a serpent. "What are you doing in the dungeons Mudblood?" he had reached her side, he leaned close, his lips practically touching her ear. "Trying to seduce Professor Snape won't improve your potions mark; he would never even touch you. You're disgusting, untalented, Muggle-born filth —"  
  
Whatever else he had been planning to say was cut off abruptly as her knee made contact with his groin. "Don't you EVER say anything to me again," she hissed savagely, "you prejudiced asshole!" Holding her wand out protectively in front of her she walked quickly backwards until she was a safe distance from him and then turned on her heel and fled.  
  
---  
  
Severus heard the commotion in outside his door too late to do anything about it. As soon as he heard noises of confrontation he hurried to see who it was, only to open the door and see Hermione disappearing around a corner and Blaise Zabini doubled over in obvious pain. Struggling to maintain his professional expression Severus looked down his nose at Blaise and said disdainfully, "I thought you were instructed to stay away from her."  
  
Blaise stared open mouthed at him. Severus realized that his prejudice had been overplayed if his students thought they could get away with assaulting students from other houses right outside his door without being punished. "She attacked me sir!" Blaise protested weakly.  
  
Severus raised his eyebrow, "I may be your head of house and as such inclined to ignore some of your," he paused and sniffed derisively, "indiscretions, but I'm in no way unaware of them." His eyes narrowed as he moved in for the kill, "Perhaps a week of detentions with Professor McGonagall will teach you to obey my instructions?"  
  
Blaise's eyes, if possible, doubled in size.  
  
"Shut your mouth before you begin attracting flies. "I will speak to the Professor McGonagall, and she'll make the final decision." He schooled his features into the look of fatherly disappointment he had loathed as a teen, "I expected better of you. Now go, before it becomes a month."  
  
Blaise didn't waste another second. Straightening painfully he murmured a 'Thank you, it won't happen again," and bolted down the corridor.  
  
Severus watched him go, fury radiating from his every pore. Hermione had done nothing that wasn't well warranted and yet his Slytherins couldn't leave well enough alone. He sighed. Tonight would be another long one, pausing only to extinguish the flame under the second-time-ruined potion he had been forced to leave and swept up to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Two sharp raps brought Minerva to the door of her chambers. She had obviously been preparing for bed, her hair was in a loose plait down her back instead of its usual severe bun and she was wrapping a dressing gown tightly around her body even as she opened the door. "Severus?" her face clearly showing concern, Minerva opened the door for him to enter, revealing a comfortable looking sitting room, "Please, make yourself comfortable."  
  
"I'm afraid we have an incident," Severus said, accepting the cup of tea she offered him.  
  
"Oh dear," was her only reply.  
  
"It seems that Mr. Zabini had an," he paused, his face contorting in distaste, he chose his words carefully "encounter with Miss Ganger."  
  
"Is she alright?" Minerva leapt to her feet, her expression mildly panicked at the thought of one of her favorite students hurt. Her children had been through enough this year already without one of the best of them being violated by a Slytherin with less sense than a Blast-Ended-Skrewt.  
  
"I believe she was the victor," Severus said with a bitter smile, "but she ran off before I could determine what he was able to do before she incapacitated him."  
  
"I'll got get her now."  
  
"Hold off a moment Minerva."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well obviously I still have things to say. Unless you think I came for the pleasure of your company. If I had simply wanted to inform you of the incident do you think I would have left a half finished potion to talk face to face?"  
  
"I supposed not." Minerva seated herself again, "very well, continue."  
  
"Thank you. I have a proposition for you. As you know Miss Granger is serving a month's worth of detentions with me for attacking Mr. Zabini in my potions class yesterday. I had thought that we might be able to use a similar tactic with Mr. Zabini. He is not hopeless at Transfiguration so you can give him the more tedious jobs to complete as punishment for his actions. I threatened him with a week, unfortunately because of my," he grimaced, "position it will be impossible to give him more than that. I trust you're resourceful enough to make use of what little time you have?" He raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
"It's a shame I'll only have him five days," Minerva said with a wistful sigh.  
  
"Seven." Severus said his tone definite. "Every day for a week for an unprovoked attack, don't you agree?"  
  
"Utterly," For the first time that evening Minerva gave him a genuine smile. "Now," she continued briskly, rising form her chair, "wait here, I'll go collect Miss Granger."  
  
Knowing an order when he heard one Severus stayed where he was, sipping his tea thoughtfully until Minerva returned with Hermione in tow.  
  
"Professor?" Hermione asked her expression innocently perplexed.  
  
Severus observed her calm faced and thought, not for the first time, that she would have made a great Slytherin. "We're sorry to have to disturb you so late in the evening Miss Granger, and be certain we will allow you to get back to your studies momentarily." He motioned for her to sit, "Tea?"  
  
Hermione took the tea offered so she would have something to occupy her shaking hands. It was bad enough she had a month's detention with Snape and now she supposed he would add to it. He would have to after all she had assaulted Zabini right outside his door.  
  
"No you are not in trouble Miss Granger," Severus smirked at the startled look she gave him, his talent for Legilimency had paid off, she looked genuinely puzzled, but her hands had stopped shaking and he could feel her defenses loosening. "But I believe you have something to tell us."  
  
"Yes sir." Hermione said, not bothering to try and lie to her professors, they obviously knew some of what had happened or they wouldn't be there. Besides she was a Gryffindor, and they were notoriously bad liars. "I had a minor run-in with Blaise Zabini following my detention. He insulted me, and you Professor," she directed her gaze to Snape.  
  
Severus blinked once, her eyes looked deeply hurt and surprised and from what he could feel of her emotions she was righteously angry on his behalf more than her own.  
  
"Anyway, I don't trust him and if he tried anything I knew I wouldn't be able to get away - He's a great deal stronger than I am – so when he was close enough, I," she paused momentarily seeking a tactful way of saying what she had done, "incapacitated him and made my escape."  
  
Snape smirked at the irony of her word choice. "So he did no actual harm to you?"  
  
"No." Hermione's tone was matter-of-fact.  
  
"I'm very glad." Severus said his voice soft.  
  
Hermione sent him a curious glace. She had never heard that particular tone and wondered if she had imagined it. "Is that all?" she asked, directing the question to her Head of House.  
  
"Yes dear." Minerva smiled lovingly, "Severus would you be a dear and escort Miss Granger to the Gryffindor Common Room?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The walk back to the portrait hole passed with neither incident of conversation. Hermione was lost in thought, the final brief exchange between Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape puzzling her, she had seen a side of Snape that she wasn't sure she liked. He had been entirely too nice. They reached the end of their walk swiftly Hermione murmured a thank you and slipped into the common room, and Severus returned to the Dungeons.  
  
---  
  
Breakfast at the Gryffindor table had become a solemn affair. An empty spot was always left where Harry had sat, noticed by all. No one talked, no one laughed, and hardly anyone ate. Hermione was no exception; she pushed her scrambled eggs around her plate until they were too cold to even consider eating and then hurried off to the library. Every so often she would be forced, by the watchful gazes of her professors, to eat a piece of dry toast, but the food had no taste and she couldn't stomach much of it.  
  
Ever since the attack on her home Hermione had been realizing how fragile her life, and the life of everyone around her, was. That terrifying realization had only been brought closer with Harry's death. Every day Hermione had to force herself to get out of bed, knowing that it was only a matter of time before she lost someone else. The owl post came every morning, and every morning she sighed with relief when no ministry owl landed at the Gryffindor table. The war was fast approaching and ministry owls only came with grave news.  
  
The library was her only sanctuary. Losing herself in research, Hermione pushed aside her grief and anxiety and relentlessly pursued any knowledge she could find. In her first five years at Hogwarts she had read every book in the public section of the library and more than a few of those volumes placed in the Restricted Section. Now, with her only thought to find a distraction Hermione chose topics at random and reread any book she knew of on the subject, but even this project could not occupy her mind as thoroughly as she would like. She craved something new, she needed a challenge or her panic and sorrow would drive her mad.  
  
If only... Hermione stopped the thought before it could form. There was no point in wishing, it didn't help anything. She would just have to start work on some Muggle subject if the Wizarding ones didn't present a challenge. Her thoughts were too scattered to do more than read and memorize books and there was no way a teacher would allow her free access to the Restricted Section simply so she could memorize it as well. She sighed deeply, it would take a few days for her Father to gather the books she would need and send them. Her parents were understandably wary of Owl Post, so communications were few and far between during the school year. Hermione knew the Weasley's often picked up mail that her parents sent through Muggle means to Little Winging and delivered it the final leg of its journey to Hogwarts by owl. This round about way of transporting her mail could take weeks.  
  
"Well, if it's going to take weeks I'd best get started," she muttered, pulling out a piece of parchment. Thinking for a moment she jotted a quick note to her father,  
  
Dad,  
  
I'm doing as well as is to be expected. Ron's holding up wonderfully as well. I miss Harry, but that's normal. I'm worried about Ginny, Harry's Girlfriend, so if you or mom have any advice I would love to hear it.  
  
Ok... that's it for news. The real reason I'm writing you is that I'm stuck for reading material and thought you might be able to come up with an assortment of books for me to go through. And don't even think about sending me your old encyclopedias, I've read them already. I was thinking something along the lines of a physics textbook, possibly some biology? They don't cover those sciences here and I'm getting a little rusty on them. I trust you know what else interests me. If you could send the books back with this owl I would be extremely grateful, I don't think I can wait the weeks that Muggle post takes.  
Thanks a million. I love you.  
  
- Hermione  
  
PS: Tell mom that those romance novels she sent were atrocious, but I love her anyhow.  
  
Satisfied that the letter would cause her parents no undue alarm Hermione rolled the parchment and headed for the owlry. Her parents had bought her a beautiful Barred Owl for her Seventeenth birthday which they names Aesop after the author of Hermione's favorite childhood story book, Aesop's Fables. The stories had always been able to make Hermione laugh, even as she queried their deeper meanings much to the pleasure of her parents.  
  
When Crookshanks had passed away in the early summer Hermione had been devastated. A few days later her parents had presented her with Aesop, making no attempt to diminish her loss, but to give her something else to focus her attentions on. Hermione found it entertaining that her mother, who was even more intimidated of owl post than her father, had shed nearly as many tears over Aesop's departure in September as she had for Hermione's.  
  
After sending the letter Hermione returned to the Common room. She hadn't seen Ginny at breakfast and knew she would probably have to force feed her something soon. Ginny had taken Harry's death harder than the others. It made sense, but it was hard to watch as she faded away in front of Hermione's eyes.  
  
The red head was curled up in one of the oversized armchairs that flanked the fireplace. Hermione smiled at Ginny and seated herself in the chair immediately across from her. "You missed breakfast," she observed, quietly studying Ginny's pale face.  
  
Blue-black circles under Ginny's bloodshot cinnamon eyes showed how little sleep she had been getting, and her creamy skin was now so pale she looked translucent. She didn't look at Hermione or acknowledge her presence even though she was staring right at her. Well not actually at her, she hadn't seemed to notice when Hermione sat in the chair and was looking past Hermione's body with a vacant expression.  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
There was no reply or change in this girl's expression.  
  
Hermione sighed. She was sick and tired of Ginny's sulking. It was a horrible thing that had happened to them, but Ginny wasn't even making an effort to get over it. She rose slowly and went to find Ron, maybe he would help her force some life into his sister. She found him sitting in his dormitory, his potions homework spread out on the bed.  
  
"Can I come in?" she asked, knocking on the door frame.  
  
Ron looked up and summoned a smile, "Hullo." He said softly.  
  
Ron had changed since Harry's death. Hermione supposed they all must have but Ron's change was second only to Ginny's. He had aged ten years in the last three weeks and dealt with his best friend's passing with a sophisticated calm that had astounded her. His once boisterous and exasperating manners had smoothed into a calm control that some adults would never possess. Of course some of these changes were only surface deep and Hermione knew he would break the smooth exterior eventually. The maturity would stay with him his entire life, but he had yet to show the pain that Harry's death had caused, at least not in true Weasley fashion. Other than the fight he had gotten into with Seamus after Harry's funeral when Seamus had asked him something about the Quidditch team, Ron hadn't shown his temper.  
  
"What's up?" Ron asked, breaking Hermione from her thoughts.  
  
"It's Ginny."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Hermione smiled softly at him, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking over his potions essay. "Ron she hasn't eaten in days." Hermione couldn't conceal her worry. "We've got to do something."  
  
"Why? She's just doing this to get attention." Ron's tone was bitter.  
  
"Ron!" Shocked, Hermione could think of nothing further to say.  
  
"What? The thought never crossed your mind?" He stood and paced the room irritation clear in his every line, "She's hurting, we're all hurting! Just because she shagged him doesn't make her pain any more valid than mine but you don't see me skipping meals or sitting, staring lifelessly into the fire. Mum's sick with worry, so are you and it's all her fault. What do you want me to do?" He came to a stop in front of her and finished savagely, "You know what I don't care anymore. Let her starve. I've got enough to deal with."  
  
Hermione's eyes clouded over with tears as she wrapped her arms around her friend, rubbing his shoulders and he released the emotions he had been hiding for the past three weeks in heart wrenching sobs. She whispered soothing nothings, wishing there was more she could do, but knowing in her heart that the only thing that would heal was time.  
  
---  
  
Severus checked the time on the clock in the east corner of his workroom for the fifth time. Half an hour left. The amethyst potion in his pewter cauldron was simmering nicely. He gave it the mandatory two counter clockwise stirs with his wand and increased the heat underneath he cauldron, bringing the liquid to a slow boil. Three minutes of boiling and he would add the final ingredient, then all that was left was to cool, bottle and label the potion. He should have no trouble being ready in time.  
  
He had just finished labeling the last bottle when a knock on his door told him Hermione had arrived, right on time. He opened the door and motioned for her to enter. She did and took the seat he indicated without a word. He moved to sit in his deck, but a searing pain shot up his arm from the place where his dark mark lay hidden by several layers of cloth. The pain, worse than usual, spread to his head and brought him to his knees with a sharp gasp.  
  
Hermione was at his side immediately. "Professor?" her voice was panicked. "Shall I get Dumbledore?" she rose to go find the Headmaster, but he stopped her with a hand.  
  
This type of pain was not a summons; it was a reminder, a reminder that the Dark Lord was furious at Severus. Voldemort had grown increasingly angry over the past month. Potters accidental death had infuriated him. That the child who, as an infant, had nearly destroyed him could have died so senselessly was a thorn in his side that he refused to let Severus forget. The Dark Lord had even gone so far into his rage that he tortured Severus for not stopping the boy's fall. It had been ridiculous, but Voldemort's energy had been so focused on the Potter brat that he would rather have him alive than dead and gone, and since Severus was the only Death Eater he could blame with any accuracy, he had taken the blame for his Lord's displeasure. The punishment had been severe, and apparently Voldemort hadn't gotten all his anger towards Severus out in the last session.  
  
Hermione conjured a blanket and pillow for him and tried her best to make him comfortable where he had collapsed on the floor. She felt better for the effort though she didn't know how much they would help. After settling him on the floor, deciding to apologize for her impertinence when that look of anguish left his face, Hermione tried a few basic pain relieving spells. She was please to see that, after several minutes, the pain seemed to b going away. She didn't know if anything she had done had helped and she didn't really care, so long as the terrible pain she could see in Snape's eyes would go away.  
  
Severus slowly pushed himself up off the floor, fighting the blackness that tried to snatch his consciousness away. Hermione instinctively reached out and helped him to his deck chair. "Thank you." He said, his voice coming out hoarsely.  
  
Hermione didn't bother to be shocked by the seemingly strange behavior. "Is there anything I can do? Or should I begin my detention tasks?" Hermione asked, inwardly wincing at how callous she sounded.  
  
"If you could grab me that vial," he pointed t a solitary vial filled with amber liquid. "Then you may begin your tasks at my work station; you'll find everything you need in that cupboard." He indicated the proper cupboard with a nod of his head.  
  
Hermione handed him the vial of potion, pausing to regard him for a moment longer than necessary. "Are you certain I can't summon the Headmaster?" she asked.  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "Does it matter?"  
  
"Yes." Hermione replied honestly, "he would want to know that your mark was hurting." Hermione realized what she had said a second too late and clamped both hands firmly over her mouth.  
  
"Yes he would." A voice from the doorway saved Hermione from whatever reply Severus was going to make. Dumbledore walked into the room and took a seat across from Severus, "Sherbet Lemon anyone?"  
  
________________________________________________________________________ A/N: Alright... I officially had too much fun with my chapter summary: P oh well. Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed. I wrote this chapter mostly to give insight into my characters... I have these freakishly detailed character sketches of them, and I want to get that across, hopefully I did somewhat. ( If you don't know what a Barred owl looks like, and you care.. a good photo of one can be found at - I think they're the cutest owls ever, which is why I wanted Hermione to have one.  
  
Merry the Psychotic Coconut - ( the other Story was one of my earlier ones... Emerald, it covers Ginny and Draco's story after Harry's death. I haven't updated it in a few months, which is probably why no one knows what it is. *shrugs* anyhow... Thanks for your review!  
  
Melwasul - yes... When I first wrote Emerald several people were enraged that I would dare kill him off in such a mundane way *rolls eyes* Thanks for your review, I'm glad you enjoyed it!  
  
Jinxd n cursed – thanks for your review... I hope you still feel that way after this chapter. ( 


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: And we're back again... I'm glad to see you're still reading_   
  
**Chapter Summary:** _One of these things does not take place this chapter: Severus fantasizes, Ron yells, Ginny fights, Blaise apologizes, Albus complains, Hermione forgets and you review.  
_  
**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing. JKR owns all the characters. The plot belongs to my muse, and was probably influenced by every other fan fiction I've ever read. I still don't have any money, so suing me would be rather pointless. I do however own the keyboard and fingers that typed the story...so if you like what you read, or if you don't, let me know on the review board._

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**Carefully Crafted World** **  
  
**  
Chapter 3  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster, "Your love of those," he paused to glare at the offered treat as if it had just dared to insult his skills as a Potions Master, "sweets gives many leave to wonder if you haven't lost your sanity all together."  
  
Albus raised a busy white eyebrow, "Really Severus," he chided, "I'm not that decrepit. After all I can still keep a few steps ahead of you."  
  
"Touché," Severus said blandly, having given up all hope of distracting Albus from the purpose of his visit.  
  
Hermione, who had chosen wisely to retreat to her work, stifled a smile at the exchange. Apparently the upper form students were not the only ones who were certain that Albus Dumbledore had a few screws loose.  
  
"Now what's this Miss Ganger was saying about your scar hurting?" Albus returned to business with the dogged assiduousness that had been the basis of every rumor of his being in Gryffindor.  
  
"It was nothing." Severus said.  
  
Hermione turned suddenly to protest only to catch a look in his bottomless black eyes that clearly told her to stay out of it. She returned his gaze with one of righteous indignation before turning her attention to the potions ingredients she was preparing.  
  
"Miss Granger does not agree," Albus said, his blue eyes twinkling in merriment. "Gryffindors do not share your skill of concealing emotions, especially not surprise. Shall I simply ask her what transpired?"  
  
Glowering more savagely than ever Severus cast a desperate glance towards the door wishing it was that simple to escape the conversant blue of Dumbledore's ever-gleaming eyes. "As I said, it was nothing. The Dark Lord is... unimpressed, with Potter's sudden demise. He was simply expressing himself." He cast a furtive look at Hermione, furious that she would be privy to this information. 'He may trust her, but she's a student,' he thought bitterly, 'a nosy, irritating Gryffindor student at that.'  
  
With an understanding nod Dumbledore turned to Hermione, "Under the circumstances it would be best, Miss Granger, if you were to complete this detention at another time. I trust you to set up another time tomorrow in which you can complete these tasks."  
  
Hermione nodded her head in acquiescence. She was disappointed that the staff still obviously didn't trust her to keep secrets, but then, this was Snape who despised her and all her friends so she shouldn't have been surprised. She began to tidy the equipment she had laid out, but a look from Dumbledore sent her scurrying from the room, leaving the mess for someone else to clean.  
  
Once Hermione had left the room Severus allowed himself to relax. The headmaster would not be satisfied until he had wrenched every gruesome detail from Severus' memory, so there was no point in fighting him.  
  
"There are but two things I need to know Severus." Dumbledore's face was grave, "One, how often this has pain been occurring, and two, what it is about Harry's death angers Voldemort."  
  
Severus smiled derisively, "You would pick at least one impossible question." He sighed and, leaning his head back so that it rested against the leather back of his chair, took a moment to gather his thoughts into a coherent pattern.  
  
"The answer to your first question is an easy one. Voldemort punishes me when he is angry but not angry enough to bother with my tiresome presence long enough for a decent bout of torture. This probably happens about once a week now; it was less frequent a few weeks ago so he must have received some new information today.  
  
"As for your second question... I don't have anything other than half- formed speculations." He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck in a distracted gesture. "I know he had focused almost the entirety of his anger towards the boy after the many times Harry foiled his assassination attempts. I also know that he would not even allow for his Death Eaters to kill the boy, I assumed he wanted to keep that pleasure for himself." Grimacing Severus reached to rifle through some papers on the corner of his desk. "Somewhere... ah, here it is," he held out a worn piece of parchment for Albus to see. "That was my order at the beginning of the year, and the reason that I am to blame for Potter's death."  
  
Albus gave him a sharp look, "There was nothing you could –"  
  
"I know," Severus cut him off abruptly, "and there's no cause for worry. I don't blame myself, but the Dark Lord does and unfortunately that has to be what governs my thought process right now."  
  
Albus finished reading the parchment and looked sadly at the young man seated across from him, "Would you have done it?" he asked, his voice tired.  
  
"I didn't have a choice," Severus replied sadly, "and if I did I might have anyhow. If I managed it as he wanted, it could have ensured our victory."  
  
Albus' hands shook as he laid the parchment back onto the desk. "Were you going to tell me?"  
  
"No." Severus answered simply and honestly, "you would have tried to save us both and it would have cost us everything."  
---  
  
Hermione propped a pair of pillows against the headboard and leaned against them, wiggling slightly to get comfortable. Her mother called this habit nesting, and it was an appropriate term. First Hermione would surround herself with pillows, packing them tightly around her body, and then she would pull a blanket around her shoulders and another over her legs. She would sit in the same position for hours; it was her favorite position for reading.  
  
Having her own room had made a very big difference in Hermione's study habits. Without the distracting presence of her roommates she could read until all hours without being either told to shut off the light, or questioned about the nature of her reading materials. In fifth year this had been her saving grace. Finally her mind had been allowed to be properly stimulated, even if it did cost her hours of sleep.  
  
Tonight she had several large tomes, curtsey of the restricted section, which she planned to go over before attempting to sleep. Her nights had been troubled ones ever since the attack on her parent's home that summer and the nightmares had only intensified after Harry's death. Now, on top of the images of her home in flames and the sound of her parent's screams she could see Harry's face, with his pale, blue-tinged skin and vacant eyes. She woke up screaming every time.  
  
She had taken to reading herself into an anesthetizing exhaustion every night. It hadn't stopped the nightmares, but at least they couldn't last as long if she only went to sleep a few hours before dawn. Hermione had thought about using a dreamless sleep potion to gain a few nights of solid, restful sleep. Unfortunately she was unable to make the potion herself, not from lack of skill, but from lack of materials. The potion was simple enough, but the ingredients necessary were neither affordable nor easy to come by. Asking for a vial of the potion from Madame Pomfery was completely unthinkable; the medi-witch worried enough about the students' health without Hermione adding to that burden. Besides that, Hermione was a firm believer in autonomy.  
  
The first book in Hermione's pile was a comprehensive compilation of everything the Wizarding world knew about the origins for the three Unforgivable curses. The second book was a continuation on the same theme; a complete précis of every known prevention, treatment and defense to the Unforgivables. Needless to say the second book was less than a third of the size of the other. The other books in her substantial pile were older books on the same subjects, many of which had been referenced in the newer volumes.  
  
It had taken Hermione weeks to gather this collection, after all Madame Pince wasn't likely to just let her walk out with a stack of books that many of the teachers hadn't even read. So instead of signing the books out Hermione had reduced their size and slid them into an inner pocket in her robe and then signed out a tamer book. Eventually the missing volumes would be found out, but for now they provided an excellent distraction.  
  
Rule breaking was no more pleasant for Hermione now than it had been in First Year. She tried to avoid it whenever possible, but with her mind in the state of nervous panic that it was and the inevitable war with Voldemort approaching she had decided that knowledge was more vital than obedience. Just as she had with Harry and his kamikaze missions to save the world Hermione's actions were governed only by her own sense and not by what was expected of her. Fortunately those two went hand-in-hand more often than not.  
  
Completely immersed in her reading Hermione didn't hear the insistent knocking on her door until Sarah, the woman in the painting that hung there, came to the painting in her bedroom and called to her. "Miss, there's a young man at the door. He says it's urgent." Sarah made a face of discuss, he told me he's break down the door if I didn't come fetch you."  
  
Hermione smiled hazily, her mind still caught up in her book. "Thank you," she replied, her tone bland. She made no move to rise and the portrait gave an indignant huff before disappearing from sight. The sound of knocking – more accurately pounding – broke her from the reading induced trance and she moved to the door, only then registering what the portrait had said.  
  
"About bloody time!" Ron's face was as red as his hair as he pushed past her into her room and sat heavily on the only chair.  
  
Vaguely confused at his presence Hermione said nothing, simply moving to sit on the bed.  
  
"Well?" Ron asked, obviously impatient.  
  
"Well what?" Now Hermione was very confused. She ought to know why he was here, that much she knew, but she didn't have a clue.  
  
"What are we going to do?"  
  
"About what?" irritated by her confusion Hermione's tone was sharper than she had intended it to be.  
  
"About what she asks," Ron muttered bitterly to himself. "About Ginny of course!" from his exasperated tone and the lightning bolts of fury radiating from his eyes Hermione gathered that this meeting had been her idea.  
  
"I'm sorry Ron," she said, smiling tentatively, "I completely forgot."  
  
"You forgot?"  
  
'Oh great, now he's skeptical' Hermione grit her teeth. "Yes. I am human you know."  
  
"She admits her fault!" Ron's comment would have been gleeful but for that flat, empty look in his eyes.  
  
"Will you stop being childish for one moment and remind me how this meeting was supposed to go?" Hermione snapped, fuming.  
  
"You told me --" Ron had to stop himself mid-sentence in order to get the volume of his voice back under his control. "You told me to come here tonight around ten, because that's when Snape would let you off detention, and we would talk about what to do with Ginny."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Obviously you've changed you mind," Ron said, his anger having disappeared, leaving him listless. "I understand, she's my sister, it's my problem to deal with." He stood, "sorry for wasting your time."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione cried as he turned to leave. "Ron, wait!"  
  
Without a backwards glance he walked out of her room, slamming the door shut behind him. Hermione threw herself onto the bed spread, letting out a scream of frustration before bursting into tears.  
---  
  
Severus had often fantasized about what his life could have been, if he had not given in to the lures of Voldemort. His youthful indiscretions had caused him and many others so much pain, and, no matter how badly he yearned, he could never take it back.  
  
At eighteen, bored and arrogant wasn't a recipe for success and Severus – at least as a youth – hadn't been one to ignore the promptings of fate. He, much like Hermione, had never struggled with his school work. His worst subject had been transfiguration, the single-minded form of magic it required had been uninteresting to his rapid mind at best – but he had still managed to stay near the top of the class with very little effort. Potions, of course, had been his best subject for the very opposite reason that Transfiguration was his worst. Potions required the use of the senses coupled with a subtle channel of magic and impeccable timing, it fascinated him thoroughly.  
  
By the beginning of Seventh Year Severus could have gotten a better than decent mark on every one of his NEWTs and so, bored with the tediousness of his classes, he began to look outside the protective alls of Hogwarts for something, anything, to occupy and challenge his mind. That was why he had fallen so easily for Voldemort's tempting offers.  
  
The idea of limitless knowledge combined with youthful ignorance that told him that he would be able to take what he wanted from Voldemort and escape unscathed had sold him on the idea the moment Lucius Malfoy had mentioned it to him. The older boy had it all, confidence and power to go with the familial riches. Severus had the riches, not that anyone would know, but the confidence had been meticulously shattered by a group of self- important Gryffindors and the power that went with self-confidence had eluded him for his entire life.  
  
The turn to darkness had been swift. One day Severus was a troubled young Slytherin with tremendous potential but a debilitating chip on his shoulder, the next he was an ambitious Death Eater who believed that he held the knowledge of the world in one hand and his destiny in the other. It had taken him less than a month to realize the enormity of his mistake.  
  
The transition back from dark to light had not been so swift, or so simple. Severus had spent a miserable year in Voldemort's clutches before going to Dumbledore on his knees, preferring the thought of a life in Azkaban than that of one more hour in servitude to the lunatic who had once been another troubled young Slytherin with tremendous potential but a debilitating ship on his shoulder.  
  
When Dumbledore had given him the option of redeeming himself through spy work he had jumped at it. Though nothing would ever change the horrible things he had done in that year he thought that maybe the information he would be able to feed the Order would be enough to absolve his guilty mind.  
  
On Halloween night, 1981, Severus was fed the biggest piece of help he could have imagined. Voldemort was going to attack the Potters. Pettigrew, their secret keeper had revealed their location. The deed would be done swiftly, but the Order had time to prevent it if they acted immediately.  
  
Severus would never forget that night. He had come bursting into Dumbledore's office, his hair – which had been a point of pride at the point in his life – a tangled mess about his head, his breath coming in short pants. "Pettigrew's betrayed the Potters!" he panted dropping into the empty chair in front of the headmaster.  
  
"How can this be?" Dumbledore looked curious.  
  
Severus had blanched, this was enormous news and the headmaster seemed nonplussed and possibly even skeptical. "There was a meeting this morning," he elaborated, "the Dark Lord was furious at our recent failures and the Peter told him that the Potters had made him their secret keeper. The attack is set for seven this evening."  
  
"Pettigrew's not the Potter's secret keeper Severus." Dumbledore said, giving him a patronizing smile. "I'm afraid you must be mistaken."  
  
"I'm NOT mistaken!" Severus said hotly, rising to his feet. "You'll see in the morning, and you'll be sorry."  
  
Later Severus had been remorseful of his harsh words. As much as he had hated James he had never wished this upon him. But the fury at Dumbledore took years to fade. His disappointment at the man's doubt and condescension was not the type that could be erased.  
  
----  
Hermione wiped her eyes savagely on the edge of her comforter. It wasn't doing anyone any good for her to be wallowing like this. The bout of tears had left her with a vicious migraine and she eyed her bed with longing. Unfortunately she knew she would have to settle for an Advil, she was out of pain-relief potion and she needed to talk to Ron.  
  
She found him sitting, staring into the orange flames of the common room fire. She took the place across from him and they spent an awkward moment staring at each other before Ron broke the silence.  
  
"I supposed you've come to apologize?" His voice betrayed a lingering anger.  
  
Hermione swallowed once hard and then repeated the motion. His arrogant assumption that he had been right had slaughtered the sympathetic comment she had wanted to make. "Actually no," she said, indulging in a semi-evil smirk when he gaped at her. "I did nothing wrong. You overreacted." Ron was still staring open mouthed and Hermione continued, "I rather believe that it is you who owes an apology to me, but if you're not man enough I understand." Inwardly Hermione cringed, that last line had been over the top, but she was angry.  
  
"You-You- WHAT?!?!" Ron stammered incoherently before standing to his full height and glowering down at her. "What do you want me to apologize for Hermione? Harry's death? Ginny's depression? The fact that I give a shit about any of my family? What?" He turned his back to her, trembling with rage. "You know, I don't care. Just get out."  
  
Hermione stared at him, her cinnamon eyes filling once again with tears that she thought she had finished with earlier. "I'm not leaving Ron."  
  
"Fine! I will." In a few long strides he slipped out of the portrait hall, leaving Hermione alone with her guilty-misery.  
  
"Good job," she muttered sarcastically to herself. "Now he'll feel better for sure."  
  
Ron stormed through the halls, his eyes blazing with anger. How could Hermione this that? All he'd done was try and take care of his sister and now she was furious at him, well at least that feeling was mutual. Rounding a corner Ron saw an astounding sight.  
  
Ginny, he knew it was her by the hair, was kissing (!?!?! A/N: I usually try to avoid that type of thing, but you must understand Ron's shock/confusion/anger at the sight) a vaguely familiar silver haired boy. With a frustrated growl that sounded somewhat like a cat hocking up a hairball Ron threw his hands up in frustration and walked back the way he had come. How could Ginny do that to Harry? To her family? To her friends? This settled it, he thought as he wove his way through the corridors barley noticing where his angry strides were carrying him, if she wouldn't talk to him then he had no choice but to pull out the heavy artillery.  
  
In about ten minutes he was back in his dorm. He grabbed a piece of parchment and sat down to write. Five minutes and three quills later he had finished his note.

* * *

A/N: _Reminder... the more you review the more likely I'll be inspired to write... my muse likes feedback even more than I do. ( grins My friends keep telling me to pimp my fictions more., so... visit my LJ grins deviously I'll give you cookies if you do, just tell me which story you're reading in your comment. ( As you can see I'm not above bribery. winks I am trying to post this story at approximately the same rate as Emerald (its parallel) so I will do my best... but updates will be painfully slow.  
  
About Dumbledore, I have nothing against the man, but I do think that he had a tendency to hold to one individual fact too tightly and not consider the possibilities.  
  
To the individuals who inspire me to continue with this:_  
  
Melwasul – _unfortunately no...I don't usually update very quickly. No matter how well I plan my stories I can't write without my muse and RL can be a hassle. I am usually lucky if I can get one chapter from any of my stories completed within a month. Fortunately I was on spring break when I started this one, so I've made a promising start... hopefully it will be smooth sailing, but if I don't update for months it doesn't mean I've abandoned the story. I'll reappear eventually, I always do._  
  
On-A-Rainy-Day – _Thank you!! I haven't given up on either of my other stories... my muse is simply taking a well deserved vacation, and I haven't retrieved my latest work on them from my other computer yet. I'm so glad you are enjoying this fiction, I think it will hold my interest longer than the others because as much fun as those characterizations of Hermione and Severus are fun to write the characterizations in the fiction don't quite match up the ones that I have in my head, but I think these ones do, at least they do so far._  
  
Jinxd n cursed – _Thanks for your review. I'm so flattered that one of my stories made you like the pairing... I was unfortunate enough to get hooked on this pairing by a story that had been abandoned half-way through... I'll do my best not to leave you in that spot   
_  
N- _Thank you for your review of Chapter 1... It made me smile. Some random substitute wrote that (keep on truckin) in my yearbook once and your review reminded me of that laughs  
_  
F75 – _Also, thanks for your review of Chapter 1... I hope you do decide to read Emerald; I would love to hear which version of the story you think is better._   
  
jz - _Thanks for your review. I think the characters are what will either make or break this story so I'm glad you enjoy them._  
  
Deb – _I'm so happy you're enjoying this fiction. As for the rest... as much as I would like to answer your questions, you'll just have to wait and see. Although I'll just point out the fact that I'm ignoring the prophesy from book five, since this story was thought of long before that came out, so Voldie is still capable of dieing, though whether he will or not here remains a question.  
_  
Lama – _Thanks for your review!_  
  
Bronwyn – _Thanks you so much for reading and reviewing!  
_  
_points to above text see? I love your reviews so much I even respond to them. grins_  
  
_oh.. and to those who are wondering about my other fics.. Such as To See You Smile which I promised to update ASAP. I'm doing my best but the last chapter is proving to be harder than I thought it would be to write. I will try to get it out before Grad activities start for real, but I've learned not to promise anything._


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